


Gag

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7908106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones tries to knock Jim off his pedestal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gag

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Based on a [Just for Laughs Gag](http://youtube.com/watch?v=DSdgZwOxRUE).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or Just for Laughs or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

They’re ten minutes late to the café because Jim, wonder of all wonders, waylays them to talk to a cute Andorian all too happy to give him her communicator code. Knowing Jim, that’ll mean their dinner plans are canceled. Leonard grumbles less than usual because he knows what’s coming. 

The café is a small one, locally run by a friendly family of Tellarites that found Leonard’s proposition hilarious, unlike the Grazerites with the bistro across the street who shooed him out for being ‘mean.’ Leonard can see the short, fuzzy waitress he spoke too earlier already waiting tables on the terrace, and Christine, right on time, is in a small table at the back. As the only person currently seated in the outside tables neatly crammed into the fenced-off sidewalk, she’s easy to spot. Leonard’s not particularly surprised when Jim throws her a charming smile.

As they pass into the building itself, Leonard asks, “You know her?”

And Jim, who apparently has slept with one two many blonde human women to recognize one from the other, quips, “Nope, but I bet I will later.”

Leonard rolls his eyes and fights to hold back a smirk. For the plan to work, he can’t tip Jim off, and he clearly hasn’t yet, because Jim seems to accept the restaurant choice without a word. If he was as observant as he thought, he’d probably note that Leonard prefers good old Southern food to overtly alien cuisine, or, more importantly, that he has, in fact, met Christine Chapel before.

Instead, Jim, light-natured and infuriatingly easy to be friends with, orders off the digital sandwich board without a hitch, “I’ll have the gummy gagh.” Jim turns a knowing look to Leonard right after, clearly baiting him.

Unable to disappoint, Leonard scowls, “Why don’t you save the trouble and just eat the sugar right out of the can?” Jim chuckles and pats Leonard’s shoulder like the fussing is cute. Leonard shrugs him off and adds this unhealthy choice to list of reasons why Jim needs taking down a peg. To the Tellarite behind the counter, Leonard says, “Salad, with _just_ the lettuce and dressing.” Then he shoots Jim a pay-attention-son look, ignoring the way the Tellarite’s face drops into a scowl at Leonard bypassing all the actually-Tellarite ingredients.

Usually, in a small, half-empty place like this, they’d be left to seat themselves, but today, right after Jim’s keyed in his credits, the singular waitress flitters over to them and gestures outside. “This way, gentleman!” she garbles in offbeat Federation Standard. Jim follows easily, right onto the terrace, where he’s gestured into a seat two tables away from Christine’s dazzling smile. Jim returns it instantly, Leonard slinking down into the chair at his side. The waitress turns, and immediately, Christine whistles. The Tellarite startles and looks over, bustling towards the far table, where Christine whispers something in her ear and points straight at Jim.

Jim nudges Leonard’s side, and Leonard instantly grunts in annoyance, hissing, “If you go over there, I swear—”

“Relax,” Jim chuckles, “I said I’d have lunch with _you_ and I meant it. ...I just can’t help it if _she_ comes to me.”

Leonard rolls his eyes and mutters, “You’re insatiable.”

Jim snorts, “It’s not my fault you weirdly sat on the same side as me and left the view wide open.”

Bristling at the flaw in his plan, Leonard snaps, “Knowing you, I figured you’d be calling the hobgoblin to join us.”

“And get you even grumpier?”

Leonard’s got a snarl on the tip of his tongue but holds it back when the waitress reappears, now holding a large, clear cup of yellow, fizzing liquid that should be beer but, knowing Tellarites, could be anything. Jim, ever-adventurous, takes it with a broad grin and a, “Thanks.”

“Thank her,” the Tellarite says, gesturing at Christine, who lifts one hand to give a subtle wave, her eyes sparkling in invitation.

Jim’s so distracted raising his cup to her and giving a suave nod of his head that he doesn’t notice the patron settling into the table next to them—a heavily sweating Sulu, wearing the thinnest tank-top imaginable, clearly just having come from a jog. Even Leonard has to admit, with the bright sight glistening off Sulu’s golden skin and the flushed look across his face, he’s damn attractive.

Christine jerks her head to look at him, does a double take, bites her lip, and calls the waitress over by an alien name Leonard can’t decipher. The waitress turns to see Christine pointing at the beer halfway to Jim’s mouth, then to Sulu. Jim pauses with the glass right at his lips, following her gaze to Sulu, and before Jim can utter so much as a ‘hi,’ the waitress has ripped the glass right out of his hands and put it on Sulu’s table. She turns her hairy back to Jim and points at Christine, saying to Sulu, “From the lady.” Christine’s in full-flirt mode again, now waving and coquettishly twirling her hair about her finger and batting her eyes in Sulu’s direction.

Jim, clearly never having been passed up so bluntly before, just stares. Leonard puts a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, which draws Jim back to him. Overrun with chuckles, Leonard somehow manages, “Guess you’re not the hottest thing in town after all, kid.” Then he collapses in a fit of it, laughing so hard he can feel a tear at the corner of his eye.

Jim still looks flabbergasted, too much so to even greet Sulu, and instead just looks between Christine and himself. Leonard clears his eyes enough to watch Sulu, tilted slightly away from them, lift the glass without a glance to either Christine or Jim.

He doesn’t quite make it to a drink, because then Chekov’s flittering into the picture, wearing a bright pink polo with a sweater tied around his shoulders. He slips right into the seat next to Sulu and leans in to peck his lips. Sulu sets the cup right down, turning to Chekov. He tosses an arm over the back of Chekov’s chair, Chekov’s hand landing on his atop the table, and then they’re practically in one another’s laps, cooing a low, seductive trail of, “Hi, honey.” “How was your run?” “Would’ve been better with you on it...” “Why do you always want to make me sweaty?”

That puts a smile on Jim’s face and wipes the one right off Leonard’s—Chekov was _not_ part of the plan, and last he checked, their officers weren’t prone to huge displays of public affection. Over Sulu’s shoulder, Chekov dares to give Leonard a quick wink that Jim’s too busy chuckling to see. Leonard glares daggers back, cursing himself for trying to get other officers to help him prank their captain. He makes a mental note to give Sulu and Chekov grueling medical examinations when they’re back aboard.

Then the waitress comes back out to bring Jim an entire plate of gummy-worms and Leonard a weirdly-coloured salad, and Christine, going right along with it, calls her name again. All of them look up, and Christine points at the beer and back to Jim. The waitress shrugs and takes the beer from Sulu, who’s too wrapped up in Chekov to even notice, and plops it right back down on Jim’s table. Jim gives a hearty snort and waves to Christine, who winks right back despite Leonard’s glare.

Now Leonard’s the one in disbelieve over how it went so wrong, because instead of acting slighted like he should, Jim just takes his first swig of the passed-around beer. As he swallows his first sip, Leonard snaps, “You realize you’re her _second_ choice, right?”

“But I’m a choice,” Jim quips. It’s times like this when Leonard finds him _too_ good-natured. Leonard just scowls at him, willing him to feel affronted over being a silver medal instead of his usual gold.

But Jim just sips at his beer, eyes Christine, and asks sideways, “You know, if you wanted to call Spock, I wouldn’t mind—we always get to hang out, but I’m sure you guys don’t spend enough time together, and I’d only get in the way...”

“Oh, go ahead,” Leonard grumbles, because it’s all ruined anyway. Jim claps him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Bones.” And then he’s getting up and taking his beer right over to Christine’s table. Behind Jim’s back, Leonard makes a _what the heck_ gesture at Christine, but she only gives a helpless shrug back. He already knows the communication he’ll get later— _I can’t help it, he’s so cute!_

Jim’s too damn cute for his own good, and Leonard bitterly slinks his way over to Sulu and Chekov’s table, ready to both give them a talking-to and plot the next takedown.


End file.
